There we were, idling at the only stop light for a few hundred square miles, staring down a 37 mile, arrow straight stretch of road in the Utah desert. 18 lane highway. We were surrounded by Ferraris, Lamborghinis, 3 or 4 GTR's, A Porsche 918, a McLaren P1, Hennessey Venom GT, 2 Formula 1 cars piloted by none other than Michael Schumacher and Kimi Raikkonen, and even a couple of Bugatti Veyron's-- but all eyes were on our Corvettes.

I looked over at him and smiled, he glared back and blipped the throttle. That's when I knew it was on! I squeezed into my driving gloves, turned off the A/C, rolled up my windows, and engaged in the death grip on my steering wheel, anxiously awaiting the light to turn green... seconds felt like an eternity. All around us, the roar of V12's, W16's and V8's shook the ground like Hannibal's Carthaginian army marching over the Pyrenees to conquer Cannae. A trickle of sweat ran down my temple as I stared at the light, holding my RPM's steady at 3100 and ready to unleash doom on the unsuspecting array of ordinary exotics and $750,000 hypercars behind us. I could tell Quadblack was feeling the same way as he slowly crept forward, ready to seize glory the nanosecond the light turned green.

I could hear my heart beating in my ears, tunnel vision took over, and everything became a blur. BOOM! Green light! I sidestepped the clutch, regulated the gas pedal, and took off like a bullet out of a gun. There was Quadblack, neck and neck with me, door handle to door handle. I shift into second, fishtailing wildly and leaving an impressive set of tire tracks on the asphalt. I heard Quadblack's tires chirp a split second later, I knew I had shifted more quickly and gained an advantage. Suddenly, on my 9 o'clock, the Veyron was creeping up on me! To Quadblack's 3 o'clock the McLaren P1 was at his rear tires, but slowly gaining ground. Knowing we had a real race on our hands, we began emptying all excess weight we could, simply flinging it out of our windows.

We threw out papers, CD's, phones, and our girlfriends. When it was all said and done, I was completely nude except for my driving gloves, but I'd gained a car length over the Veyron, and Quadblack was walking away from the McLaren. The Porsche 918 and the Aventador that were closing in on us were now becoming small specks of dust in our rear-view mirrors.

BAM! Power shift into 3rd, leaving more tire tracks and smoke behind, but nearly losing control from the immense torque my 6.0 liter V8 produced, raining hellfire on the road surface. By this time, Quadblack had pulled hard on the McLaren and it was just the two of us. Knowing we were in for the fight of our lives, I dared looked down at my speedometer... 83 mph and closing in on redline fast! "Now's my opportunity!" I thought, and short shifted into 4th spinning the rear tires wildly, allowing Quadblack to gain a few inches on me, but springing my trap!

The endless torque of my 6.0 liter LS2 was more than enough to dispatch with the paltry 700+ hp cars behind us, and I was chasing the horizon! Well into my power band, I gained back the ground I lost to Quadblack, but his nose was still at my door handle! "I can't believe how fast these Corvettes are!" I screamed to myself in dismay.

Feeling I was coming up on redline again, I slammed my shifter into 5th gear, converting most of what was left of my rear tires to smoke and scratch marks on the highway! At over 140 mph, anything that didn't have a Chevrolet Bowtie on it was a distant memory behind us! I chanced to take my eyes off the road to answer a call from my mother about what time we were meeting for dinner. Foolish! Quadblack took advantage of my distraction and pushed the gas pedal even further to the floor and gained a door length on me!

Sensing that it was now or never, I turned on my heater to help cool my engine and pick up a few extra horsepower that I'd lost due to the extreme underhood temperatures and heat soak! 175mph, I'm slowly pulling away from Quadblack. At 190mph his nose was at my rear bumper.

"NOW!" I shouted, and shifted into 6th! My stock 2007 took off like I'd activated the afterburners! By 217 mph, I'd gained an entire car length on Quadblack, but I couldn't shake him. "Damn this guy is good!" I thought.

Time to separate the men from the boys. I shifted my T-56 into 7th at 6200 rpm's, approximately, 245 mph, and that's all she wrote. By 300mph Quadblack was 3 cars back and dropping quickly! By this time I could feel the car getting squirrely and the front end lifting ever so slightly, so it was time to let off. I coasted back down to 170mph and flagged Quadblack to pull over so we could talk. Instead he turned on his flashers, popped his trunk, and did a ricer fly-by. After I parked, the other cars that we'd embarrassed finally caught up, probably less than 15 minutes later. They all honked, flashed their lights, and waved as they passed me. Some woman even threw her bra at me. I didn't get a good look, but I'm pretty sure it was Halle Berry.